The Servant of Unbeing
by The Shadow Incarnate
Summary: Less than a year after the end of the war, Aang and Zuko still contend with disgruntled and outright rebellious leaders of the Fire Nation armed forces. A new wrinkle appears in the form of a mysterious new ally of these leaders, who begins to pose a serious threat to peace. Aang and Zuko must put forth all their efforts to stop them, or peace will forever depart the world.


**Author's Note:** Welcome to my newest fanfic, _The Servant of Unbeing_. I hope you enjoy it, and if you have any constructive criticisms to make, please do so. Please note that I use line breaks to signal scene transitions and use the centered _# _sign to indicate either character changes within a scene or the passage of time within a scene.

And now, an epigraph:

* * *

_Only in silence the word,_

_only in dark the light,_

_only in dying life:_

_bright the hawk's flight _

_on the empty sky._

"The Creation of Éa"

From A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_"What is the power of the Avatar if not the power of the World? What is the World if not the principle of Being? What is Being without Unbeing? If the Avatar is the servant of Being, who, then, serves Unbeing?"_

_ From "The Musings of Ko-ai"_

* * *

"I offer you a word," said the man cloaked all in black, "and the word is _power_." That word, so short, only two syllables long, made the metal bulkheads ring. Admiral Tsing sat back on his rug, considering. The cloaked man had refused to remove the cowl that hid his face, and the candles made the shadows around his mouth shift, sometimes revealing, oft concealing. One of his coconspirators, a colonel named Zhou, leaned over to whisper in the ear of a naval commander, one of Tsing's own subordinates.

The cloaked man turned his head toward the colonel. He said nothing, instead staring at them, the force of his indignation a palpable tang in the air. Zhou muttered something into the commander's ear, but then he noticed the cloaked man's stare. He shifted on his seat.

"Pray tell," said the cloaked man, "what news is so important."

Zhou tilted his head back, a sneer on his lips. Tsing almost sighed, knowing what was coming.

"It's none of your concern," said Zhou.

"Indeed?" said the cloaked man. He leaned forward. "Everything you do is my concern, _Colonel_. Every word you speak, every thought you have; all of them concern me." The cowl turned toward Tsing. "Your allies seem not to understand my importance to your cause."

"No," said Tsing. "But they don't know everything I know."

The cloaked man nodded. The commander, whose name was Ukoto, said, "Admiral, what—"

Tsing made a cutting gesture and said, "No. Some things are better left as secrets. If it happens that you need to know these things, I will tell you. But not now." He met the eyes of everyone in the room save the cloaked man. "Do you understand?"

The nods came slowly, but they came. When Tsing looked back, he saw on the cloaked man's face a smile that showed no teeth. Tsing bowed to the cloaked man, and received an inclination of the head in return. Tsing frowned, but he said only, "Now, my lord, will you tell us what you offer besides a word?"

The cloaked man nodded, and then he spoke.

* * *

The Avatar sat in silence atop an old ruin. The ruin hung below him, shaped out of rock centuries ago at the behest of monks who wanted to be as close to their element. They had hired earthbenders to do the actual work of constructing the temple, as the monks had no talent in that area, and only earthbenders could so shape the stone that it would not break and fall into the abyss. Yet those earthbenders shaped only the bones of the ruin. The monks had, through the centuries, infused the now-ruined temple with the spirit of their people, giving the temple art to adorn it and life to walk its halls. Now, a century after war had taken the life that had once walked these halls, new laughter rang among the walls and ramparts. Aang could feel them with his earthbending senses, the vibrations of many feet and spoken words down below the plateau. He could feel the approach of someone, though his senses could not say who it was; he was not as skilled as Toph in the art of sensing

It was not an enemy, though; he knew that much. There were no enemies, not here, and not now. In other places, he had enemies still, enemies who sought his death, and the death of all he had worked to accomplish. Aang was the Avatar, though; no power on Earth was strong enough to challenge him.

No. That way lay pride, and pride was something he had foresworn a century ago. Yes, he had power, but his power served others and not himself. Time had taught him that lesson, had brought him to a position of supreme power in the world, but the world _was_ his power, and his duty. Only in service to the world would he wield his power.

The footfalls nearing Aang were heavy, the tread of a man and not a woman or girl. Still, he kept his silence, not turning or opening his eyes until the man sat beside him and said, "What are you thinking about?"

At Zuko's words, Aang opened his eyes. Where he sat, he could not see down below the cliff, where a multitude of people now worked. He saw only the empty air, and beyond, the edge of a far-off canyon. "The Avatar is supposed to be a force for balance in the world, right?"

"Yes," said Zuko.

"But what does that _mean_? I have all the power of the Avatars who came before me but...but..." Aang shook his head. "Sometimes, I wonder how the Avatars who came before me managed to do it. Without becoming like Ozai, I mean."

Zuko took a deep breath, and then let it out. "They had the spirits of former Avatars to give them advice, didn't they?"

"Yes, but..." Aang leaned back on his hands. "I guess what I want is to be able to make decisions on my own, without always turning to Roku and the others for advice."

Zuko nodded. "I understand. You want to be your own person, making your own choices, without the interference of others."

Aang sighed. "I suppose."

Zuko smiled. "It doesn't get any easier with age. You're what, nearly fourteen? You'll never have all the answers. You'll think you will, but one day, you'll look back to these days and say, 'It was so easy back then.' And then you'll look to the things you've done since today, and you'll say, 'Why did I make those choices?' And _then_, you'll make more decisions, and to your dying day, you won't find choices that are easy to make." Zuko looked out over the canyon. "That's what Uncle Iroh says, anyway."

"Oh," said Aang, "I bet I could find _some _that are easy."

Zuko chuckled. "Deciding what color shirt you're going to wear doesn't count."

"Well," said Aang, looking down, "it certainly isn't a _hard_ decision." He only had yellow shirts of the shade that Air Nomads wore. It was all he really owned. That, his staff...and his status as the Avatar. Some things he couldn't get rid of, no matter how much he wanted to.

Zuko seemed to catch Aang's mood. He stood then, and his voice came down to Aang as if from a great distance, so soft was it. "You did a good thing, asking for earthbenders to come here. It'll help heal the hurts that still rend the world."

"It's not as easy as it looks."

"Oh, I know. It's hard even to negotiate with the Earth King's envoys. One of them hates me because I'm a firebender, another hates me because I helped Azula in the overthrow of Ba Sing Se, and the other...well, she's old, and set in her ways. She's got a will like iron, and a tongue like a knife. Uncle likes her. Says she's all sorts of fun to talk to. I've never seen it."

"Iroh does have a way with people."

"No kidding. He's the reason I haven't ordered anyone executed."

"What?"

"No, no. I didn't mean it." Zuko sighed. "When I was young—really, really, young—I thought being Fire Lord meant that I could do whatever I wanted. Now, I understand that it's a prison, a gilded cage. At least, it is if you have any sort of morals." Zuko watched the ground, his thoughts sliding into his brain like hammers. "If you're like my father, you can do whatever you want, and no one would dare challenge you."

"You're not like him, Zuko."

"But it's so hard ruling. Uncle Iroh is in Ba Sing Se, so he can't advise me. The only person I know who knows statecraft is...is Ozai. But I can't trust him. I've talked to him a few times, you know. When he speaks, it's like poison, but it feels _right_. It's what I want to do when I'm tired and angry. It takes me a moment to remember that he's a maniac. I want...I want to believe that maybe, the next time I go see him, he'll have realized that he was wrong, that what he did was wrong. But it never happens."

Then, the Avatar and the Fire Lord sat in silence atop an old ruin, each contemplating a dilemma of their own making.

* * *

Iroh was not in Ba Sing Se. He had told no one of where he was going, though he would, in time, go to the Avatar and ask his help in returning to that city. He was, in fact, in the Fire Nation capital, in a small volcanic crater just outside the Palace complex. A zig-zagging path led to a circular stone wall, and within the confines of the wall was a multi-leveled stone tower that had the look of a prison. Iroh went up the path with a slow gait, his face hooded, and his posture regal. When he came to the door in the wall, a small hatch slid open, and from inside came the voice of a guard, saying, "Who goes there?"

Iroh reached up and drew back his hood. The guard's eyes widened, and he said, "Welcome, General Iroh. I'll have the door open in just a moment."

Iroh nodded. The hatch slid shut, and after a moment, steam hissed somewhere behind the gate, and the doors, each made of blackened iron, swung open. The guard stood a short distance behind the doors in a pose of martial rigidity. He saluted. "How can we serve you, General?"

"By not telling my nephew of my visit," said Iroh.

The guard frowned. "Yes sir, but may I ask what the reason for your visit is?"

"I have come to see my brother."

The guard's face grew pale. He licked his lips. "Sir, by edict of Fire Lord Zuko, we're required to tell him of anyone coming to visit his father."

"I understand. Hmm. This is a dilemma." Iroh smiled. "I have an idea. Would you be willing to tell my nephew about this later? In, say, a week's time? There are certain secrets I wish to remain secret."

"Um, my lord, I don't think I can keep secrets from the Fire Lord, not if they concern his father."

Iroh nodded. "Your loyalty does you credit. However, I am not asking you to keep the secret of my visit. If Zuko comes here before the week is out, tell him. It is just that I have things to do before I involve him."

Again, the guard licked his lips. "I...I suppose that will work..."

"Excellent!" said Iroh. "Now, I would be very grateful if you would take me to my brother."

The guard swallowed visibly. "Yes, my lord. If you will follow me..."

#

Iroh was surprised to see this particular cell again. It was the same one that he'd been put in when he was a prisoner. _Chance, or fate?_ he thought. _I begin to wonder. _The universe seemed to like irony.

The guard opened the door, stuck his head in, and said, "Visitor to see the prisoner." The guard leaned back and said to Iroh, sotto voce, "The door will be unlocked. There will be a guard standing outside."

Iroh nodded and stepped inside the room. The guard shut the door behind him.

"Ah," said a voice hidden in shadow. "Another visitor. This one I've expected for a long time. How are you, dear brother?"

"I am well, Ozai." Iroh came further into the room, stopping several feet from the bars. He sat. "Come into the light, brother. I'm here to talk."

"Oh? Are you here for advice, too? Zuko's been coming here every few months. He's so earnest. He wants to change me, did you know that? He wants me to _see the light_. The boy is as weak as he ever was."

"Kindness is never a weakness."

"Ha! Kindness is for those who don't have power. Strength comes from choosing, from choosing what you desire, and then taking it! Power doesn't grovel or beg forgiveness. Power takes what it wants, and woe betide anyone who stands in its way."

"No, Ozai. That is not strength, but hardness. The hard thing seems strong, but it is brittle, and it breaks. Your daughter was hard. When her friends turned on her, the blow broke her. Zuko is like the willow, bending with the winds of the world, but never snapping from their force."

"Sentimental words, Iroh, but it won't suffice if he intends to keep his stolen throne."

"Perhaps not," said Iroh, "but already, he has helped improve the world, and he has the Avatar beside him to lend moral authority."

Ozai spat. "The Avatar is as weak as Zuko. He could impose his will on the world more than any Fire Lord ever could, but he uses it to maintain _balance._ Change, Iroh! That's what the world needs, but you and Zuko and the Avatar have brought it back to the state it was in before."

"You may be right, Ozai, but even so, such an end did not justify your brutality."

Ozai slunk forward, his face coming into the light. His hair hung limp and ragged on his shoulders. "What did you come here for, Iroh? It wasn't to debate ethics and philosophy. Tell me why you're here."

Iroh closed his eyes. This was a long shot, but it was all he had. "I know you had contingencies in place in case you fell from power. Tell me what they were."

Ozai gave a small, bitter laugh. "They hardly matter now. I'm not a firebender anymore, brother. The flame has gone out of me. They won't follow me."

"But they will fight," said Iroh, "and they can cause great harm to the world. Help bring peace, Ozai. You've already lost your power; what use is your old pride here?"

"Pride! Why give up all I have left? Why should I help the one who defeated me?" Ozai leaned forward. "My _pride_ is all I have left. Take it away, and I am nothing."

"Pride comes from many places, brother. If you give up the pride you now wear, might you not find pride in something new?"

Ozai stared at Iroh, and then he said, "Leave. Now."

"As you wish," said Iroh. He stood, and then he left.

He had not expected Ozai to give him the information. The man was stubborn as a mountain, and as cold as a blizzard. But Iroh had no choice. If he was to help Zuko, he had to know. Ozai had been a schemer; Azula had learned the trait from him. All his life, Ozai had made plans to gain ever more power, and he had had plans in case of his own defeat. Confidantes and fellow schemers, they had to be somewhere in the Fire Nation, but Iroh did not know where. He had his suspicions, but if he was honest with himself, he knew that the men he suspected were merely unhappy with the turn the conflict had taken. He did not _know_ that they planned insurrection.

Peace would not come easy to the world. Many people in the Fire Nation supported the war, and did not like the new Fire Lord's policies. That made the military officers, the ones who had the power to overthrow Zuko, confident that they might be able to mount a rebellion with support from the people. For now, the people merely muttered, but when the winds of civil war came blowing, there was no knowing which side the people might choose. A century of propaganda had enforced a regime of thought and sentiment that held sway still. Perhaps only another century of truth would overcome it.

These thoughts and many more did Iroh have as, humming a quiet tune, he walked out of the crater and into the Palace complex. He stopped and looked up at the edifice that one Avatar had destroyed many, many years ago. Now, though, the Avatar was the friend of the Fire Nation, and it was internal strife that threatened to bring down the peace so many had died for.

Iroh would not let it happen. Not this time.

So thinking, he walked on.

* * *

When all except he and the cloaked man had left, Tsing turned to look at the cloaked man. He was staring at the one candle that still flickered in the cabin of the ship. "Why now?" said Tsing. "Why me?"

The cloaked man said nothing for a moment, and then the cowl turned to face Tsing. "Do you know how long I've waited?" His voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper.

"You've told me."  
The cloaked man looked away. "You don' t understand, though. How could you? The world has changed, Tsing, and it's time for it to change again. _I_ am the only one who can bring the change, though. Only I know the secrets, the old masteries long since lost. And I've paid the price for those masteries. It's time I was given my due."

Tsing bowed at the waist. "I must ask, honored ancestor: why me? Surely there are others who might better serve your purposes."

The cloaked man nodded. "There are many, but only you are of a like mind with me. The others...they would side with the Avatar. You wouldn't."

"Yet I have plans of my own. Won't they conflict with yours?"

"You merely want to be Fire Lord. I have a far grander goal in mind."

Tsing nodded. "So you have told me. But can it be done?"

"The spirits say so. If they're wrong...so be it. In any case, the farce will be over, and the world will be a better place for it."

"You carry a heavy burden."

"I've carried it longer than you would care to imagine. And it's a burden I chose to carry. Don't think to pity me. I made my choice a long, long time ago."

Tsing nodded. "I'll leave you for now."

The cloaked man nodded as well. "I will take my leave of your ship soon. There are things I must do and people I must go to."

Tsing stood. "Good luck, Sanjin," he said, and then he left.

Sanjin, the cloaked man, snuffed out the candle with a breath of air, and contemplated his revenge.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed this. If you did, and you like _Star Wars_, check out my fic _Endgame_. As always, don't forget to review.


End file.
